


Welly Boots

by Zorak23



Series: Welly Boots [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Facebook: The Fairest of the Rare, Fairest of the Rare's Sing Me a Rare 2020, Fairest of the Rare's Sing Me a Rare 2020 - UK Invasion, No underage, Protective Severus Snape, Questionable taste in footwear, Teacher/Student
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:48:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26567575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zorak23/pseuds/Zorak23
Summary: An unexpected act of kindness, and an even more unexpected choice in footwear, have lasting impacts on Severus' life.Winner: Best ComedyRunner Up: Overall FavoriteRunner Up: Best Use Of SongRunner Up: Pairing We Didn't Know We Needed
Relationships: Luna Lovegood/Severus Snape
Series: Welly Boots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2147568
Comments: 80
Kudos: 124
Collections: Sing Me a Rare: UK Invasion!





	Welly Boots

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Sing Me a Rare: The UK Invasion. Much love to my beta, RoseHarperMaxwell, and my alpha, JacqP, who are two of the absolute best people ever!!!
> 
> Song Prompt - The Welly Boot Song - Billy Connolly
> 
> As always, Black Lives Matter and trans rights are human rights.

* * *

If it wasnae for your wellies, 

where would you be?

You'd be in the hospital or infirmary

Cos’ you would have 

a dose o’ the flu or even pleurisy

If you didnae have your feet in your wellies!

* * *

“Miss Lovegood, please stay after class. The rest of you are dismissed,” Professor Severus Snape said to his second year Potions class. He arched a brow as not a single other Ravenclaw student cringed at this pronouncement, although he did notice several of the Hufflepuffs giving the airy blonde surreptitious looks of commiseration. 

Once the rest of the students had trailed out of the classroom, he directed his black gaze towards the girl on the front row. 

“Would you care to inform me why you came to class without the required attire?”

“Sir?” 

“You are not wearing shoes, Miss Lovegood.”

Luna looked down at her feet, clad only in striped socks, and the confused look on her face cleared. 

“They do seem to be missing, sir.”

“Obviously.”

“I had them yesterday, but they appear to have vanished in the night. I suspect Nargles, myself, sir. I can let you know what I discover in that regard should you like.”

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. “Miss Lovegood, you cannot walk about the castle in your socks. It is November. In Scotland.”

Luna cocked her head to the side and looked at him curiously, yet didn’t reply. 

Heaving a sigh, Severus waved his wand at her feet, conjuring a pair of solid black welly boots. He had to stifle his amusement at her gasp of delight. 

“Thank you, sir!” Luna said, pulling her feet out from under the desk to admire the boots. 

“Yes, well, no sense in you catching a dose o’ the flu or even pleurisy,” he replied, smothering a grin at the old remembered lyrics. He was stunned when she leapt from her seat, hugged him around the waist, then picked up her satchel and skipped out of the classroom.

* * *

Wellies they are wonderful, 

oh wellies they are swell

Cos’ they keep oot the water, 

and they keep in the smell

And when yer sittin’ in a room, 

you can always tell

When some bugger takes aff his wellies.

* * *

The night of the Yule Ball, Severus was standing near the refreshment table and glowering at the miscreants who might dare attempt to spike the punch. He was keeping a particularly keen eye on the Weasley twins and their friend, Mr Jordan. They seemed the most likely candidates for such malfeasance. 

From the corner of his eye he noticed a slight shimmer, and turned his head to see what magic had caused the disturbance. He started when he noticed the colour of Miss Lovegood’s robes changing from pale blue to pale purple, then scowled when he realised she’d seen him staring. 

“Good evening, Professor. I do hope you’re having a lovely time,” she greeted as she walked towards him.

“Miss Lovegood,” he returned with a nod. “I trust you and your date are behaving yourselves?”

“I don’t have a date, sir,” she replied, blinking owlishly up at him. “I was out for a walk, and came to see what the commotion was. I’d quite forgotten about the Ball.”

“You are a third year student,” Severus stated, nonplussed. “You are not allowed to attend the ball without a date.”

Luna nodded sagely. “That must be why I forgot; I didn’t have a date. I’m sure I would have remembered, had I a date.”

Severus pinched the bridge of his large nose in exasperation, then started once more as he saw, quite clearly this time, the colour of her robes changing from pale purple to shimmering aquamarine. 

“Your robes are charmed?”

“Oh yes, sir.” She raised a hand to the side of her mouth, as if imparting a great secret, and whispered, “It confuses the Nargles if the colours change.”

“Indeed,” he replied, lifting a brow as he looked down at the silly chit. Before he could berate her for attending the Ball in spite of being too young, she spoke again. 

“I’ve also charmed my shoes to match, sir!” Luna excitedly lifted her skirts to mid-calf and stuck out one foot for his perusal. Severus nearly choked when he saw she was wearing pearlescent welly boots in the same shimmering shade of pale aqua as her robes. 

Recovering himself, he said, “Welly boots are an interesting choice with dress robes, Miss Lovegood.”

“Is that what they’re called?” she said curiously. “They’re wonderful, whatever their name is.”

“Oh wellies they are swell,” he replied with a smirk. “In any case, you should return to your common room. It wouldn’t do to force me to take points on Yule, as you technically are not allowed to attend the Ball.”

“Alright, sir. Have a lovely evening,” she agreed, then turned to leave the Great Hall. Severus watched her go, and smiled slightly when her robes changed from the pale aqua back to the shimmering blue they had been when he first caught sight of her that evening. Shaking his head to clear it, he returned his attention to the refreshment table and the locations of the twin terrors and their devilish dormmate.

* * *

If it wasnae for your wellies, 

where would you be?

You'd be in the hospital or infirmary

Cos’ you would have 

a dose o’ the flu or even pleurisy

If you didnae have your feet in your wellies!

* * *

“Severus! You’re needed in the Hospital Wing!” Madam Pomfrey’s nightingale patronus said as it flew to his side in the Staff Room. Severus immediately set down his cup of tea and rushed from the room. Rarely did the mediwitch sound so urgent without good reason. 

The Potions Master gaped at the sight of the disheveled students when he reached the Hospital Wing. Miss Weasley was lying on a bed, crying softly with her ankle turned at an awkward angle, Mr Longbottom’s face was swollen, his nose obviously broken and oozing blood, and Mr Weasley was giggling with a glazed expression on his face. Their clothing was tattered and they were covered in soot and the remnants of spell fire. Miss Lovegood was there as well, and while she appeared to be just as tattered and filthy as the rest, she at least seemed unhurt. 

“Severus!” Madam Pomfrey called, sticking her head out from behind a closed curtain. “In here!” Severus was shocked that she had used his first name in front of students. He quickly crossed the room to join her, dreading the sight of what could possibly be so bad as to make the unflappable mediwitch forget propriety. 

Miss Granger was lying on a bed behind the curtain, and Severus thanked Merlin she was unconscious. Madam Pomfrey had cut away the girl’s jumper, showing a vicious purple gash across her torso. He leapt into action, Summoning potions, casting spells, and working side-by-side the mediwitch to save the young Gryffindor’s life. Once she was stabilized, he left the curtained area to treat the other students. Miss Granger still needed the attention of the competent mediwitch, but was out of immediate danger for now. 

Severus strode to Mr Longbottom’s bed, scowling and ignoring the boy’s pleas that he “see to Ginny first.” He quickly cast a diagnostic charm, and then a wordless _Episkey_ repaired the damage to Mr Longbottom’s broken nose. Sweeping away from the now-healed student, he turned his attention to the youngest Weasley, casting the same diagnostic charm over her. He mended her cuts and bruises, then offered her a pain potion as he quietly explained that her broken ankle would have to be tended by Madam Pomfrey. Turning towards the still-giggling Weasley spawn, Severus lifted the corner of his lip in a sneer. 

“I fail to find humor in the fact that the lot of you nearly _died_ tonight,” he spat viciously. 

“Professor,” Luna said quietly, coming to the boy’s side. “Ron was hit with something at the Department of Mysteries; I’m not sure what. He’s been a bit... funny ever since.”

Severus inhaled sharply; there were several curses that rendered the victim out of control of their mental faculties, some quite lethal. He immediately began casting diagnostic charms over the boy, then sighed in relief as none of the darker spells appeared to have been used. 

“It seems Madam Pomfrey will have to see to Mr Weasley, as well. He is no immediate danger, however. Have no fear.” Severus turned to Luna, then gestured to an empty bed. “If you would, I should like to see to your injuries now.”

“I’m not particularly hurt, sir. Just a bit banged up,” she replied, but still sat on the bed he’d indicated. Severus sniffed derisively at her response. 

“I shall be the judge of that, Miss Lovegood,” he said harshly, casting the diagnostic charm over her as he spoke. Pent-up tension rolled off his shoulders when he saw that she was indeed correct; she was only bruised with minor cuts and had suffered no grievous injury. He quickly healed her, then raised a brow when he saw her footwear. 

“Yellow wellies?” he couldn’t help but ask. 

“Yes, sir. My father says that yellow is a lucky colour. Sun colours are mostly for weddings, but I shudder to think what would have happened tonight had I not been wearing them.”

“If it wasnae for your wellies, where would you be? Although you still ended up in hospital,” Severus muttered under his breath. He shook his head when she looked at him curiously; he hadn’t meant for her to hear. “Do try to stay out of trouble, Miss Lovegood. I have several potions to brew for Miss Granger, and shan’t be available to look after you.”

“I’ll do my best, sir,” she replied. “Thank you.”

“See that you do,” he said gruffly, then swept away from her and left the Hospital Wing.

* * *

But when yer oot walkin’, 

in the country wi’ a bird 

An yer strollin’ over fields 

just like a fairmer's herd

And somebody shouts, “Keep aff the grass,” 

and you think, “How absurd!”

And, squelch, you find why 

fairmers a' wear wellies.

* * *

Severus had finished gathering potions ingredients in the Forbidden Forest and was making his way back towards the castle when he saw her. The daft girl was standing in the Thestral paddock, feeding the animals bits of raw meat from the satchel by her side. Grumbling to himself about entitled students making his life a misery, he was halfway to the paddock and intent on assigning her detention before he realised: she could _see_ the creatures she was feeding. Miss Lovegood had seen death. 

That the one student in the castle who didn’t fear him, who actually seemed to _like_ him, could be so touched by death… well. He didn’t like that thought at all. Surprisingly, he liked it even less than how much he hated that he cared in the first place. Silently making his way to the paddock, he watched the silly chit as she scolded one of the foals for trying to sneak seconds directly from her bag, as opposed to waiting its turn. 

“Hello, Professor.”

Severus drew a sudden breath; he hadn’t realised she’d noticed his presence. 

“Miss Lovegood,” he drawled in return, silently stepping into the clearing in front of the paddock. He cast about for something to say, finally settling on, “The herd seems quite comfortable with you.”

Luna smiled faintly. “They rather are. I come to visit them quite often. I think it makes them sad that so many people can’t see them, although I doubt I should wish for more to be able to do so. You can come closer if you wish. They’re quite gentle.”

Severus gave her a sharp nod, entering the paddock. His lip lifted in disgust as he eyed the ground, and he drew his wand to cast a spell at his feet. 

“A good plan, sir,” Luna commented, approving of his choice in footwear. “I would have picked a different colour, of course, but black suits you.”

“I would rather not find why fairmers a' wear wellies, Miss Lovegood,” he sneered. 

“Why do you do that?”

“Why do I do... what?”

“Sometimes your accent changes when you talk about wellies, sir. I was wondering why that is.”

Severus couldn’t help but grin slightly. “It is a song, Miss Lovegood. The muggle who sings it is Scottish. I suppose when I quote the song, it seems disingenuous to do so with an English accent.”

“You listen to muggle music?” she asked. When Severus looked at her, he realised she was simply curious and not after information to be used against him. 

“I do,” he drawled. “Wizarding music… leaves much to be desired,” he scoffed. “Although the muggle who sings _The Welly Boot Song_ is more of a comedian than a singer. My father enjoyed his work.” Severus stopped speaking when he realised he’d said more than he’d planned. 

“Your father listens to muggle music, too?” There was more than curiosity in her tone this time; Luna was quite surprised by his admission. 

“My father was a muggle, Miss Lovegood,” Severus said quietly, and he stopped stroking the nearest foal to clasp his hands behind his back. He straightened his shoulders and added, “My father was many things, but a good man was not one of them. He did, however, have impeccable taste in music.”

“And liking a song about shoes is indicative of impeccable taste?” Luna asked, looking up at him with her large eyes.

Severus laughed genuinely at that. “No. But Da found many of his songs funny; I suppose I do as well.”

“I’d rather like to hear the song sometime,” she admitted once she’d turned back to the Thestrals. “Perhaps someday I shall.”

“Perhaps, Miss Lovegood.”

* * *

If it wasnae for your wellies, 

where would you be?

You'd be in the hospital or infirmary

Cos’ you would have 

a dose o’ the flu or even pleurisy

If you didnae have your feet in your wellies!

* * *

Professor Flitwick ran past Luna and Hermione, barely noticing them in his haste to get to Professor Snape. The girls listened in shock as they heard the diminutive Charms professor shouting about Death Eaters in the castle and demanding the other man come aid the fight.

They’d just decided to rush in to see if they could help, when Severus nearly bowled them over running out of his office. 

“Professor Flitwick has collapsed. You both are to stay with him until it is safe to take him to the Hospital Wing,” he commanded. He watched Miss Granger run into the room, but quickly grabbed Miss Lovegood’s arm before she could follow. When the girl looked up at him, as if awaiting further instructions, he closed his eyes for a moment before softly speaking a spell that he directed towards her feet. “Yellow for luck, Miss Lovegood. On the inside and out.”

Luna glanced down at her shoes and smiled faintly. “Thank you, sir. Good luck to you, too.”

“Stay out of the hospital or infirmary, and you should be fine,” he muttered as he released her and swept away. 

Later, after the horror of the battle had cleared and the news had come out that Professor Snape was both a Death Eater as well as the murderer of the Headmaster, Luna remembered his words. She slipped out of the Hospital Wing and found an empty classroom, which she quickly locked and warded behind her. 

“Why would he say, ‘inside and out’?” she asked aloud to the empty room. “Rather excessive for good luck, I should think. Unless…” Luna quickly bent and removed her now-yellow wellies. They’d been blue earlier that day, and she was particularly proud of the charm she’d invented that allowed for designs to move about on the surface of the conjured footwear. She rather thought the yellow made the floating dirigible plums stand out better than they did on the blue. 

There, on the inside of her right boot, words had appeared. Luna gasped, and her hand rose to cover her mouth. He’d left her a message. 

‘Miss Lovegood, all is not as it seems. Should you wish to know more, write in your opposite shoe, and I shall know. Tell no one. ~S.S.’

* * *

There's fishermen and firemen, 

there's fairmers an a'

Men oot diggin’ ditches, 

an' workin’ in the snaw;

This country it would grind tae a halt 

and no' a thing would graw

If it wasna for the workers in their wellies.

* * *

Luna spent most of the summer painting the ceiling in her bedroom. At least, that’s what her father thought. Xenophilius Lovegood had no idea that his daughter was also conversing with a known murderer every single day. 

The conversations had started off small. In fact, her first message consisted of just one word: ‘Why?’

Her professor explained, over the course of the next few days and through several messages, that the Headmaster had already been dying from a curse and had actually planned his death. Severus was still loyal to the Light, even though for now it had to appear that he was not. After he said he would do everything he could to not only weaken Voldemort’s forces but to keep the students safe, she finally sent her second message: ‘Why are you telling me this?’

In return, she received the following: ‘I suppose I wished for someone to know the truth.’

Thus began the start of their daily conversations. When asked, Severus explained the charm he’d placed on her wellies to allow for the message transfers, and instructed her on how to cast the spell herself. Luna confessed to him that she’d been mistaken about the Nargles, and that in actuality her housemates had been stealing her belongings. She made it clear that no retribution was to be made, as all of her things had made their way back to her. And now that she had friends of her own, she wouldn’t feel so alone in the castle. 

Severus commented on the deterioration of her handwriting, and Luna admitted that she was finding it difficult to write properly on the inside of her boot. She explained that she had folded down the cuff since her quill wouldn’t fit inside, but the rough surface still made writing difficult. Within moments, instructions on how to spell words written on parchment onto other surfaces appeared. Luna was fascinated by this, and soon had to ask how to remove the charm. When questioned, she said she’d run out of skin and would like to keep trying. It was several long minutes later before she received a response, along with an admonishment to refrain from testing spells on her person. She asked if anger had caused his reply to be such a long time in coming, then giggled at his near-instant response: ‘No. I find it surprisingly difficult to write whilst laughing.’

Severus kept Luna appraised of the Dark Lord’s plans, and cautioned her to keep her head down during the upcoming school year. She knew he was to be installed as Headmaster, but would be unable to communicate with her freely. She used his parchment spell to write tiny golden words on her ceiling, making them into part of the design she was painting. When he confessed that he was having a hard time staying focused, she informed him that Wrackspurts were most likely to blame and offered to owl him some Spectrespecs. Severus immediately declined the offer, stating that sending an owl was too risky, but allowed her to leave him a pair attached to the dirigible plum tree outside her home. 

When she went to check if they were still there the next morning, in their place she found a small, flat, rectangular package. It was dark orange in colour and had a circle cut out of the centre, allowing for the contents to be displayed. Taking the package inside her home, she waited until she was safely ensconced in her room to open it. Inside, she found a flat, round, black disk with a label in the same dark orange as the covering, along with a handwritten note. ‘Miss Lovegood, this is a vinyl record; specifically a 45. It can be played upon a magical gramophone, even though it is a muggle device. You expressed a wish to hear _The Welly Boot Song_ at one time, and I thought to return the pleasure of your gift. Many thanks. ~S.S.’

Luna turned the object over in her hands. It was similar in size and shape to the records her father would play, but felt completely different. She saw the words ‘Billy Connolly’ at the top, and assumed that was the name of the muggle who had written the song. One side would apparently play _The Welly Boot Song,_ and the other contained _Sergeant, Where’s Mine?_ As soon as her father left for The Quibbler offices, she rushed downstairs to use the gramophone. She giggled throughout _The Welly Boot Song,_ entertained by the singer’s habit of laughing as he sang. When she flipped the record over to hear the B side, she was confused by some of the muggle terms but in the end decided it was rather a sad song, and not as funny as the first. _The Welly Boot Song_ was definitely her favorite. 

After the disaster at the wedding of her neighbor, Luna returned to find a message waiting from her Professor. ‘The Ministry has fallen; I am named Headmaster. Keep your head down. This country it would grind tae a halt and no' a thing would graw should He win. Please, Miss Lovegood. Stay safe. ~S.S.’

* * *

If it wasnae for your wellies, 

where would you be?

You'd be in the hospital or infirmary

Cos’ you would have 

a dose o’ the flu or even pleurisy

If you didnae have your feet in your wellies!

* * *

“Hush, Ginny. Don’t wake the portraits,” Luna whispered softly when her friend cursed under her breath after banging her shin on the Headmaster’s desk. 

“Sorry,” Ginny whispered back. “That _hurt.”_

“Let’s hurry,” Neville urged. “He could come back at any time…”

The three students turned their attention to the glass case containing the Sword of Gryffindor. Unfortunately, the case proved to be impervious to every unlocking spell they knew. Neville sighed, looking defeated, but Ginny was looking at Luna’s intense expression as she studied the case. 

“Luna? Do you have another idea?” she whispered, her voice barely audible. 

“I’m wondering if the case is Charmed to be unbreakable,” the girl replied pensively. “I don’t believe it is.”

Neville shrugged. “Only one way to find out. Be ready to run, girls.” He glanced around the room, then picked up a heavy brass plant stand from the corner, carefully removed the potted ivy, and swung the stand over his head and into the case. The glass shattered immediately; Ginny raced to scoop up the sword from out of the shards. 

Before the three could make their getaway, however, the Headmaster returned. The door of the office slammed open, and two of the students flinched under his searing, black gaze. 

“How... dare… you,” Severus seethed. Luna watched as Neville shrank back at first, then squared his shoulders to face his innate fear of the dark man. Ginny, she noticed, had no such inner war with herself, meeting the threat head-on with an almost vicious courage. 

“The Sword of Gryffindor belongs to Harry,” Ginny stated boldly. “We’re taking it to him. It _certainly_ doesn’t belong to... _you.”_ Her eyes dared the Headmaster to deny her scathing statement. Again, Luna watched closely; this time she saw Severus’ eyes close momentarily as he weighed his options. 

“I think not, Miss Weasley. As Gryffindor has no points left to lose, you shall each spend a full _month_ in detention. Perhaps Hagrid can keep you in line; he’s rather good with… creatures. You shall spend the time in the Forbidden Forest, doing whatever is needed there. Hopefully you will live through your punishment, though I doubt you will come away unscathed.”

Before Ginny could say anything more, Neville grabbed her by the arm and started to drag her to the door. Luna looked at Severus with a curious expression as she followed, her hand slipping into her pocket as she passed him. Severus raised a brow when she placed something on the corner of his desk, but did not say anything more. Once the door had shut behind them, he blew out a breath to release the tension in his shoulders. 

“That was well done,” the portrait of Dilys Derwent offered. “A punishment you can defend to You-Know-Who, yet one they will not suffer for.” Severus inclined his head in acknowledgement of her praise, and she continued. “Do you think they know you’re protecting them?”

“Miss Lovegood does,” Severus admitted. “She won’t tell the others unless they figure it out for themselves.”

“What did she leave?” Albus’ portrait asked, and Severus picked up the small phial. 

“A potion,” he replied, looking at the label. “It says, ‘For manipulative portraits, in case of a dose o’ the flu or even pleurisy.’”

“What does that mean?” Phineas Nigellus Black demanded, and most of the other past Headmasters muttered questions as well. 

Severus sighed. “Miss Lovegood does not… particularly care for Albus, I’m afraid,” he replied. He removed the stopper and wafted the scent to his nose, then immediately recapped it as his eyes watered and he began to laugh.

“Well? What is it?” Phineas demanded.

Severus met Albus’ eyes, then said, “Turpentine.”

* * *

Now Edward Heath and Wilson

They havnae made a hit

They are ruinin' this country

Mare than just a bit

If they keep on the way they’re goin'

We'll all be in the shit

So you better git your feet in your wellies.

* * *

Luna was surrounded by the dead. Voldemort’s forces had retreated for the moment, giving the Light a temporary reprieve to mourn their losses and to turn over Harry Potter. She made her way past the bodies in the Great Hall, past the injured and the heartbroken, and found a seat at one of the few remaining tables. She checked the inside of her boot, more for the fact that it had become a habit when she sat down rather than because she expected to see a message there. Surprisingly, there was one. 

‘Miss Lovegood, I have been summoned to His side. I do not expect to survive this meeting. It has been an honor to know you. If I could beg one last boon from you, when the battle is over—if the Light has won—please let the relevant authorities know that my body can be found in the Shrieking Shack. As I will have died without an heir, the goblins know to release my vaults only to the one who knows the passphrase: Moonflower. I pray the Dark Lord does not prevail, for if they keep on the way they’re goin', we’ll all be in the shit. You have my thanks, and my respect. ~S.S.’

With a strangled sob, Luna jammed her foot back into her boot and took off, running out of the Great Hall as fast as she could. When she reached the front steps of the school, she tried to Apparate and was relieved to find it worked. Wasting no time to ponder when or how the school’s wards had fallen, she raced into the Shrieking Shack and ran up the stairs, searching for her Professor. 

She found him slumped against the wall in what had once been the main room of the shack, partially hidden behind a mouldering table. Luna allowed herself one moment of frozen horror before leaping into action. Casting a Vivusmortem charm and finding him still amongst the living, the determined girl immediately began searching through the pockets of his robes for the healing potions she knew he carried. She shoved a bezoar in his mouth, then poured both the Antidote to Common Poisons and the Antidote to Uncommon Poisons down his throat to wash the bezoar down. Once she’d poured dittany over the gaping wound in his neck, she covered it with one of his handkerchiefs and cast a stasis charm to keep the cloth in place, then petrified him and Apparated them both to her home in Devon. 

Xenophilius Lovegood wearily made his way up the front walk of his home. He and several other prisoners had managed to escape Azkaban when their gaolers had suddenly left the island, presumably to join a battle of some sort. When he opened the front door, he was astonished to see a pale glow coming from the sitting room. It was somewhere between the colour of a Lumos Charm and a Patronus, and was steadily gaining intensity the closer he walked towards it. Once the man reached the sphere of light, he could make out two figures within the dome. 

“Luna!” he cried, recognising his precious daughter within the glowing manifestation of pure magic. “Luna, no!” Xenophilius was terrified. He’d seen such a magical portent only once before: the day his beloved wife had died. 

Xenophilius couldn’t get close to the sphere. Every time he tried, _something_ shoved him back. He knew his strength wasn’t what it had been before his incarceration, but he had to save his daughter. The thought that he would lose her, the same way he’d lost Pandora… it was unfathomable. 

Spell after spell, every possible charm, hex, and curse that he knew was fired at the orb. His lagging strength finally waned completely and he fell to his knees in front of his daughter, sobbing uncontrollably. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there. Minutes, hours, days... time had lost meaning. There was nothing left for him. His daughter was gone, and in the same way her mother had left him. His sobs tapered off and numbness set in, so much so that he didn’t realise at first that someone had wrapped their arms around him. It took several tries before a voice filtered through his anguish, a voice he never thought he’d hear again. 

“Daddy? Daddy, are you alright? What’s happened? How are you home?”

Xenophilius turned his head and stared uncomprehendingly at the vision before him. 

“Luna. My darling girl. I’m so sorry I wasn’t home in time to save you. And now you’ve died. Oh, my little moon, I shall miss you so.”

Luna stared at her father, then shook him roughly by the shoulders. “Daddy! You listen to me right now! I’m here, I’m alive, and I need your help!”

* * *

If it wasnae for your wellies, 

where would you be?

You'd be in the hospital or infirmary

Cos’ you would have 

a dose o’ the flu or even pleurisy

If you didnae have your feet in your wellies!

* * *

Severus awoke to pain. That in and of itself was nothing new; due to the rigors of being the right-hand-man to the Dark Lord, along with his unfortunate upbringing, Severus was quite used to waking up with various aches and pains. The blinding agony in his neck and throat, however… _that_ was new. 

He took stock of his surroundings before even opening his eyes. Shoving the mental effects of the pain behind his Occlumncy shields, his mind finally cleared enough to realise he wasn’t in his own bed. Odd, that. He also wasn’t in the Hospital Wing, nor his bed at Spinner’s End. No hospital or infirmary for the likes of him, it seemed. 

Severus slowly opened his eyes, only to see an unfamiliar ceiling above him. The events of his attack began to filter through his mind. He raised his hands to his neck, although he wasn’t sure if he was protecting himself from a threat or checking for damage. The sound of rustling papers and a throat clearing caused him to turn his head in that direction, then he winced in pain as the movement aggravated his injury and sent waves of agony through his Occlumency shields. 

“Oh good! You’re awake,” said a cheery voice, although Severus noticed the voice had fallen flat at the end. He tried to sit up, and was quickly reprimanded for attempting to move. “Don’t be ridiculous, Professor. You’re still healing. Wouldn’t do to let all of my little moon’s hard work go to waste, now would it?”

“Little moon?” Severus managed to croak, grimacing when his throat felt full of ground glass as he spoke. It wasn’t until the speaker leaned over him to check his bandages that Severus recognized the man. 

“My daughter, Luna,” Xenophilius replied, rewrapping the man’s neck. “She saved your life, you know. At great cost to herself, I might add. Seems she’s gone and finished my Pandora’s research. She saved you with the same spell that killed her mother. No, don’t try to talk,” he quickly added, seeing that Severus was about to question him. “Your throat shan’t thank you for it. I’ll get you some parchment and a quill in a moment. I suppose you wish to know what happened?” Severus could only nod, though even that minute movement exacerbated his pain. 

“I should start by saying we won. You-Know-Who is gone for good this time, thanks in great part to you. You’ve been asleep for three weeks now, here at my home. Luna took you from the Shrieking Shack, healed you well enough that you’d survive, then went back to the final fight. She’s spent the time since preparing your defence. As of yesterday, you are a free man, cleared of all charges, and shall be awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class as soon as you are well enough to receive it.”

Severus could only stare at the older man in shock. He mimed writing, and Xenophilius patted his hand, then rose to get the aforementioned parchment and quill. In moments, Severus was able to scratch out questions. 

‘Losses?’

“A fair few, I’m afraid to report. My little moon told me about Remus Lupin and his lovely bride, one of the Weasley twins, a lass called Lavender and a lad called Creevey, and I believe there are around fifty others who died as well. But other than You-Know-Who and that mad Lestrange woman, I've no idea who was killed on the other side. Oh, the snake was beheaded. The Longbottom boy lopped its head off with a sword, of all the things.”

Severus blinked in shock, then slowly wrote what he wanted to know most of all. ‘How, exactly, am I alive?’

“You’ll have to ask my little moon,” Xenophilius replied, sighing as he sat down on a nearby chair. “I’m not sure I understand it myself. She’s quite brilliant, you know. Gets it from her mother. She’s already accepted an apprenticeship with Newt Scamander, and hasn’t even sat her NEWTs yet.”

Xenophilius leaned over to read the next question that Severus wrote on the parchment. ‘Is she alright?’

“She... is healing. She wasn’t seriously injured, but the months she spent in the dungeons of Malfoy Manor took their toll. The amount of magic she used to heal you, added to the stress of clearing your name, along with her indignation and anger towards you—” Xenophilius broke off at Severus’ sharp inhalation of breath, and he looked the other man in the eye. “It is never a good plan to leave what amounts to a suicide note along with the password to your vaults, Professor. My little moon took exception to the fact that you offered payment to assuage her loss. She loves you, you daft man. There’s not enough money in the world to provide a balm for the loss of love.”

* * *

If it wasnae for your wellies, 

where would you be?

You'd be in the hospital or infirmary

Cos’ you would have 

a dose o’ the flu or even pleurisy

If you didnae have your feet in your wellies!

* * *

“And you’re _sure_ they have to come?” Severus drawled, not looking forward to the visitors that should be arriving at any moment. 

“Don’t be silly. They’re my friends. I haven’t seen any of them since Harry and Ginny’s wedding!” Luna replied, looking at her husband with exasperation. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. It’s just—we haven’t been back to England in three years. It will be nice to catch up.”

Severus sighed, knowing he could deny her nothing. He took her hand and pulled her into his arms, deliberately ignoring Xenophilius’ smirk towards the couple. He reminded himself to finish the upgrades to his home in Spinner’s End as soon as possible; if they were to stay in England, he didn’t want to live with his father-in-law longer than he had to. Soon, a knock was heard at the door. 

“I’ll get it,” Severus grunted. He released his giggling wife and stalked across the sitting room to the front of the Rookery, where he threw open the door and glared at the people gathered on the steps. Noticing the looks of absolute shock on their faces, he raised a brow and sneered down at them. “Can I… help... you?”

Severus noted with a sort of detached interest that the ginger wizard’s face was rapidly beginning to match the color of his hair, the Potter brat was openly gaping at him, and the Weasley-turned-Potter had paled dramatically. The still-bushy-haired witch simply took a deep breath before she smiled pleasantly and said, “Hello, sir, it’s so nice to see you again! We’ve come to visit Luna, but we’d love the opportunity to speak with you as well.”

Severus made a sort of growling noise in the back of his throat, trying to keep from spewing vitriol over the impertinent chit. _‘These are my wife’s friends, these are my wife’s friends,’_ he repeated to himself over and over. 

“Love, your pet Gryffindors have arrived,” he snarked over his shoulder into the room beyond, then opened the door further to allow them entrance. He deliberately ignored the older Weasley’s angrily whispered, “Pet?!” and led them to the sitting room and his wife. 

“Luna!” squealed the younger Weasley, as she bounced across the room to engulf the other girl in a hug. “Did Professor Snape really just call you love?” 

“Yes,” Luna replied curiously, but she offered no explanation. The two boys—men, actually, Severus supposed, these two were no longer boys—were still staring at him in shock. He was still resolutely ignoring them. 

“Love, I believe I shall be… not... here,” Severus said abruptly, no longer able to take the blatant gaping of the dunderheaded duo. He stepped to Luna’s side, bent and kissed her cheek, then swept from the room with their vapid questions ringing in his ears. He stalked through the kitchen towards the back door, nodded to Xenophilius when the older man gave him a commiserating smile, then Apparated to Cokeworth with an exceptionally loud _crack._

Severus spent the day clearing out his childhood home. Once he’d all but gutted the interior and made the necessary repairs, he charmed the walls to look freshly painted and magically refinished the floors to showcase the original hardwood. Looking around the empty space, he decided the white paint wouldn’t do, but resolved to leave the color choices to his wife. Merlin knew he didn’t care one way or the other, as long as he wasn’t living amongst pastels. 

Once he’d done all he could for the day without Luna’s input, he returned to her father’s home in Ottery St Catchpole. Surely her… friends... had left by now. One could only hope. He sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose, then turned on his heel and Apparated to Devon. 

When he arrived back at the Rookery, he was thrilled to see Luna and her father through the window. They were alone, thank Merlin. Severus made his way into the house, bending down to kiss his wife on the cheek as he passed, and crossed the room to pour himself a drink. 

Swirling the firewhisky in the glass, he asked, “Did you have a nice visit, love?”

“I did, thank you. I know you don’t care for them, Severus, but they _are_ my friends and it was lovely to see them. Do you know, I had quite forgotten to tell them we’d married?”

Severus choked on his drink. “I beg your pardon?” he asked when he had recovered himself. “You… forgot?”

Luna shrugged. “It was such a large part of my life; I guess I assumed everyone would know.”

Xenophilius snorted. “Little moon, you and Severus had a _traditional_ wedding ceremony. Guests were not invited.”

“Yes, Daddy. Which is why I was so surprised when Hermione asked to see the photos from the wedding—”

“LUNA!” Severus yelped, aghast. 

“Calm down, you daft man,” Xenophilius chuckled. “I mentioned the traditional ceremony before she could return with the photographs. Ron and Ginny quickly explained to their spouses what that meant, and they all passed on seeing them.”

“I still do not understand why you insisted on photos being taken in the first place,” Severus grumbled, relaxing back against the sofa and nursing his drink. 

“I wanted a permanent reminder of the day—” Luna began to explain, but Severus cut her off. 

“I’m still not comfortable with the fact that we have the photos in the first place, love. Please promise me you won’t show them to anyone. Ever.”

“Whyever not?” 

“Luna. We married in the nude.”

“I know. I was there.”

“We are also nude in the photos.”

“And you look quite lovely in them.”

“Bloody hell, love! I don’t want people to see nude photos of us!”

Luna giggled. “Well why didn’t you just say so in the first place?”

As Severus muttered darkly under his breath, Xenophilius laughed and exchanged a glance with his daughter. “I think I’ll leave the two of you for the evening, little moon. I believe I’m in the mood for a night at the Leaky.”

Severus nodded in his direction as he left, not noticing that his wife seemed nervous, nor the way Xenophilius paused to squeeze her hand and give her a bolstering smile. Once he’d gone, Luna got up and went to sit beside Severus on the sofa. His arm automatically wrapped around her shoulders, and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. 

“How did it go at the house?” she asked, hoping he wouldn’t notice her nerves. 

“Good, I suppose,” Severus drawled. “It’s cleared, at least. I’ve charmed the walls white, but you’re welcome to change them to whatever you wish. I didn't want to presume I’d make the correct choice.”

“Were you able to get the basement potions lab in working order?”

“It’s not ready to brew in, but I’ve made progress.”

“And you said there were bookshelves in the sitting room?”

“Yes, but I’d thought about making the second bedroom into a library of sorts, if you’re amenable to that,” Severus admitted. 

Luna gulped before saying, “We may wish to hold off on that. Oh, here, I’ve a gift for you!” She pulled a small box out of her pocket and handed it to him. Severus smiled at his wife; he would never understand how her mind could flit from one subject to the next so quickly. Her brilliance was one of the many things he admired about her. When he took the box from her hands, he finally noticed that she seemed a bit nervous. Looking from the box to her face and back again, he curiously opened the lid and looked inside. 

Time seemed to stop. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t make sense of what he was seeing. He looked towards his wife, questioning everything he’d ever known to be true in his life, and she nodded, her eyes filling with tears. 

“Truly?” he managed to ask. 

“Yes,” she replied, and he pulled her into his lap before covering her mouth with his own. The box lay forgotten next to them, spilling out a tiny pair of yellow welly boots.

* * *


End file.
